


Kittens

by ThatwasJustaDream



Series: Vet Visit [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Family Fluff, Family Pet, Kittens, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 17:33:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6619882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatwasJustaDream/pseuds/ThatwasJustaDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny's so relieved that he forgets to fret. Steve's standing by to celebrate one and help with the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kittens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaige68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaige68/gifts).



> This and two other stories in two other fandoms to follow all emerged from a 1_million_words prompt: Vet Visit. I thought it'd be fun to see how it played out between the various pairings. :)

“So how’d it go?” Steve heard them coming in via the front door. 

He craned his neck to look for Danny and Grace as he kept washing the dishes, bracing for the looks on their faces. It was a relief to see Danny’s little grin and Grace’s huge smile.

“Kittens!” Danny said, throwing both arms in the air, waving his car keys in a circle on the fingers of one hand. 

“No way!” Steve grabbed a towel when he saw Grace making a beeline for the fridge, and dried a hand to help her with the door. “Kittens!”

“Uncle Steve, can Gizmo have some milk once a day? I think it’s a good ….”

“Of course, Grace…”

“…idea. Considering the situation. Thank you.”

“Go for it, sweetie.”

She managed to get the carton to the counter okay with Gizmo heavy in one arm, but then Danny needed to help with the actual pouring and walking it all to her room so the cat could dine on friskies and drink her milk in peace after the indignities of the vet visit.

“Holy…crap, am I ever relieved,” Danny said when he came back, grabbing a towel and starting to dry things randomly. 

“I know. I’m glad for her,” Steve nodded.

“I was damn sure it’d be bad news. That stray is no spring chicken, you know?”

“I do know,” Steve agreed.

“I’m sitting there, thinking we’re gonna hear it’s a tumor. I’m bracing for Gracie to bust out in tears and look at me like, ‘save it daddy, spend a couple thousand bucks saving this sad bag of kitty bones,’ but instead…”

“Kittens!” Steve said, raising a hand to offer him a damp high-five. Danny was still riding a happy high enough to take him up on it, wet slap and all.

“Kittens….” Danny paused, going back to helping him drying things. “….oh …hell…. kittens.”

Same word. Totally different tone of voice. 

Steve couldn’t help it; tried not to chuckle at him, but … Danny’s face.

“A litter’s not always very big, is it?” Danny asked. “Three, maybe four ….”

“Seven,” Steve countered. “Maybe eight. Thirty two paws.”

“Eight,” Danny was clearly visualizing it. “Eight kittens wandering the house, tearing up the plants, pooping behind the couch, peeing on our beds….”

“It won’t be that bad,” Steve tried to suggest, with little hope of actual success.

“This is all your fault!” Danny kept drying, but was now visibly winding up straight into rant mode. 

“ _My_ fault? Why is it…”

“You let Grace keep that thing.”

“Yeah? Maybe I did, Danny, but I had it in the house, safe, sound, and pregnancy-proof. Then you let it outside…”

“I didn’t let it out, it _got_ out between my feet. Those things are… _greased_ , I swear it’s like they’re... oiled. And they have no bones, and they’re triple jointed.”

“How about we agree that it’s both of our faults?” Steve tried again.

“Okay,” Danny tossed the towel as Steve emptied the sink and rinsed it out. “But you’re helping with the birthing. And the runt, if the runt needs feeding and all that…crap. And you’re finding them all homes when they’re old enough…”

“It’ll be fine,” Steve wrapped a damp hand around the back of Danny’s neck and leaned in for a couple of light, quick kisses. “I’ll help with the messy stuff. You find ‘em homes.”

“Sold,” Danny said, taking one more kiss. “Okay, fine. Sold. Eight, huh?”

“Maybe not,” Steve said, headed to see how Grace was doing with the mommy-to-be. “Maybe only six. Or five.”

“Yay,” Danny followed him toward Grace’s room. “….kittens.”


End file.
